Thursday, July 8, 2021

Day 139 Psalms 73:1–75:10



Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you.



This series of psalms express a deep longing for God. The accompanying reflection is from CS Lewis and talks further about having an appetite for God. Do I have an appetite or deep desire for God? If so, how does it manifest?

I admit that I don’t tend to pine or long for God. I’ve been graced, I suppose, with a sense of God’s presence at all times. While I love him deeply, I don’t tend to pine or long for my dear husband of over 30 years; familiarity breeds complacency. So it is with my relationship with God. I don’t have a longing or desire for God. Rather, I get the sense that God is present, and I take that presence for granted.

If I didn’t sense God, I wonder if I would want God, or hunger for God, or desire God more than anything on earth. Maybe I’d fall prey to the easier desires of earthly things; if I didn’t sense God, perhaps I’d put my trust in myself, or in my husband, or my family, or my job. If I didn’t have a sense of God’s presence, I don’t know that I’d turn to an invisible and seemingly absent God.

It is said that some of the most faithful people have some of the most painful periods of God’s perceived absence. In the book, Come be my Light, I learned that Mother Teresa experienced this crippling sense of God’s absence for 50 years. 50 years she spent in what she described as darkness. She forced herself to smile toward God, while at the same time she felt unloved and unwanted by God. She smiled and prayed, even when she was in deep gloom, and thought her prayers were fruitless. She felt that her duty was to love and pray, even when – perhaps especially when – she didn’t sense God, and even felt unloved by God.

I didn’t know what the book was about when I started it, and was disturbed at the idea that she spent 50 years in a sense of darkness and distance from God. How could that be for Mother Teresa? Over time, I’ve come to appreciate the notion that faith is something we hold on to, and continue to do God’s good work regardless of whether we get the warm-fuzzies. We do God’s work in the world – loving God and loving our neighbor because that’s what’s right, not because it feels good.

So in general I don’t have a deep hunger and desire for God. I pray that when I enter my dark night of the soul, I can hold on to that certitude of God’s presence and goodness, even if I can’t sense it at all. At that time, perhaps I’ll reread that book by Mother Teresa. If she can hold on and do all the good she did, I should try too.

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